


Give Me What I Want

by RogerTaylorCanRawMe



Series: Queen One-Shots [26]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Breeding, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, F/M, Face-Fucking, Kitten, Pet Names, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 09:31:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18962545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogerTaylorCanRawMe/pseuds/RogerTaylorCanRawMe
Summary: Despite your best efforts, you struggle to lure Roger away from the studio. Until he arrives back at your hotel room that evening, drunk and ready to give you exactly what you want.





	Give Me What I Want

**Author's Note:**

> Boom. Two in one day.

  
Roger stood in the doorway of the studio, arm draped against the frame. Despite your best efforts, he refused to leave. If only for a little while.  
You tried everything. Donning a skimpy sundress. Wearing that shade of red lipstick he loved. You even wore heels. But the only thing that drew a reaction from Roger was when you took his hand and slipped it along your thigh. You didn’t get the response you had hoped for, though.  
Roger sped out the door like a shot, sparking up a cigarette along the way. Freddie, eagle-eyed as always, followed him. He left you sitting on the sofa at the back of the control room, while Brian and Deacy thrashed out another stormy disagreement in the live room.   
The door still swung, bristling against the floor in slow, broad swishes.   
You stared back down at your lap, picking at the skin around your nails.   
The door kept on swinging.   
Brian and Deacy continued arguing.   
While your stomach tied itself in knots.  
Your feet touched the ground and led you outside in one swift movement.   
Freddie and Roger stood side by side in a cloud of smoke. Their bodies shrouded in darkness as they looked out on the lake. The midday sun beat down on the promenade, drawing out the locals, their dogs and their children too.  
Not the type of place you wanted to throw a tantrum.  
You gingerly made your way towards the door, parting Freddie and Roger on your way out. Then you turned to face them.   
“I’ll see you back at the room. Whatever time you feel like getting home,” you announced, placing your hands on your hips.   
A pair of broad, dark sunglasses hid Roger’s eyes, but you could tell he rolled them when you spoke.  
In contrast, Freddie’s expression was a mix of ‘you’re done for’ and admiration with the way you dealt with Roger’s outburst. “I’ll see you later, my dear,” he chuckled.  
“I sure as fuck won’t. Bloody brat,” Roger rambled, flicking his cigarette away. He turned and went back inside, leaving you alone with Freddie.  
His eyes bulged.   
“Catch you later, Fred.”  
“Don’t worry, I’ll work on him,” he said with a wink.

The balcony of your room gave you an unobstructed view of the promenade. Pouring yourself a glass of wine, you settled back into one of the chairs and propped your feet up on the table. You groaned in contentment as you swallowed the first sip, leaning your head back.   
The sun still hung high about the lake, bathing everything in a mellow yellow haze. Montreux always looked gorgeous, but never more so in the afternoon. Even in mid-March, you could afford to soak up the rays in nothing but a little red dress without fear of freezing to death. A miracle, indeed.   
Revellers on the street below buzzed to and fro on bicycles or pushing prams, merrily lapping up their ice creams or walking their dogs. Still no sight of Roger, though. Maybe he really was in no mood to give in to you today. Perhaps, for once, he actually did want to get some work done.   
Exhausted from your efforts, your eyes drooped closed.

The slam of a door knocked you awake like a short sharp punch to your gut. Darkness settled over your surroundings, but inside your room, you could see something moving. Stumbling. Cursing.  
“Roger? That you?”  
“Who do you think it is!”  
You got to your feet and went back inside. One baby step at a time. “Did you get much work done?” You asked, trying to sound sweet.  
He caught you off guard. With his hands on your hips, he sent you crashing against the wall. Smoke and vodka lingered on his breath as he leaned into you. And then his teeth sank into your neck. The sensation made you gasp as searing bolts of electricity shot through your body, pooling heat between your thighs. All day Roger had denied you even the slightest bit of attention, but it was all worth it. Just for him to come back to you, wasted and rough.  
“You thought you were smart earlier, didn’t you?” Roger growled, pressing his thigh between your legs, forcing you to grind against him. “I couldn’t fucking focus on anything else. Going in there dressing like a little fucking tart,” he continued, yanking at your neckline. “Is this what you want?”  
Roger’s hands roamed. Your chest. Your thighs. Your hair. All of them were pinched, groped and clawed at until your hair was dishevelled and your dress sat bunched around your waist, leaving you utterly exposed. You crossed an arm around your chest, hoping it’d offer some modesty, but Roger moved swiftly. The grasp he had on your wrist, you were sure would leave a bruise. Never once did he touch you where you needed him most. He just left you to your own devices, rubbing aimlessly against this thigh with no chance of release. His stare bore through you, sending another shudder through your body as his mouth moved lower down your chest.  
“I’ve got a good mind to punish you for that little stunt earlier,” he said, sinking his teeth into your flesh.   
He never kissed you. He never touched you how you wanted to be touched. Frustration gripped you, urging a sassy response. “Well, fucking punish me, daddy.”  
Roger made you regret that in an instant. His movements slowed as he stood up straight. He was taller, but not by much, but now? You felt so tiny. The way he looked down at you wearing an almost disgusted expression made you swallow hard. Your heart pounded. Your sweaty little fists balled up. Your entire being tensed.  
Roger trailed his fingers lightly over your jaw. Normally an act of love or adoration; normally, he would admire you through his long, thick lashes. But his chest heaved, and his nostrils flared. His eyes grew dark. He inspected you with the gentlest touch.   
And then he grabbed a fistful of your hair from the nape of your neck.   
He launched you face down into an ocean of sheets.  
Grasping at the material, you let out a whine in anticipations of what was to come. The sound of Roger unclasping his belt made your back arch, eager to present yourself to him. You rolled your eyes. Why were you like this? You weren’t supposed to be enjoying this.   
Roger’s thumb traced through your slick, sensitive folds. He gave a satisfied hum. “Has someone been touching themselves?”  
“No, daddy.”  
“Couldn’t get what you wanted, so you just couldn’t control yourself,” he purred, sinking his fingers into your flesh.   
“I swear I didn’t.”  
The bed rose behind you. “You’re lucky I’m not in the mood for this kitten.”  
The sound of Roger’s zipper pricked up your ears. Narrowly avoiding the belting of your life, the excitement built inside you, sure that he was going to give you the fucking of your life, at least. The sensation of the tip of his cock had you clawing at the sheets again, wiggling your hips. Trying to ease yourself on to him.  
But he delivered a quick, open-handed swat to your behind. “Doesn’t mean I’m not going to make you suffer, darling.” His hand found its way into your hair once again, turning you around to face him. Now on your knees, Roger had to lean over to break into your line of sight. His fingers squeezed at your neck just enough to let you know he meant business. “Here’s the deal, kitten,” he began, “I’m going to get what I want. You’re going to let me. You don’t get to come. Or touch yourself. And if you’re good, I’ll decide when you get to touch that dirty little cunt of yours. Do you understand?”  
You stared at Roger open-mouthed.  
He used one hand to shake your head by the hair, and the other to slap your pussy. “Understand?”  
“Yes, daddy!”  
He reverted to his soft, raspy tone, again and returned one hand to the base of his cock. “Good. Now get over here and put that mouth of yours to good use.”  
Despite the fistful of your hair in Roger’s grasp, you needed no guidance. Your tongue swept and broad, wet stroke along the underside of his cock. Then your lips parted just enough to wrap them around the tip. You looked up at Roger as you attempted to take more, and more, and more. Until tears formed in the corners of your eyes and you gave a pained gasp. Like a kitten desperate for attention, you refused to budge until Roger acknowledged your efforts.  
You should have known that your neediness would get you nowhere with him when he was in such a foul, sadistic mood. Using your hair, he began to pull you to and fro, working your mouth along his shaft.   
With nothing left to do but accept it, you gripped the edged of the bed. Strings of spit dripped down on to your hands as you coughed and spluttered. Roger inched closer to bottoming out, with the tip of his cock reaching the back of your throat. But he didn’t stop there. Not when you hadn’t taken him completely.   
With a muffled screech from you, Roger rocked his hips into you, shoving his cock further than you imagined it could go. He stared down at you with his lower lip between his teeth, guttural sighs escaping him. “I fucking love you with all that muck on your face. You look so pretty like this.”  
You knew fine and well that your lipstick was smeared down your chin, and that your mascara ran down your cheeks in thick black streaks. Shame tugged at your insides just hearing him point it out in such a backhanded way. You clenched your thighs together, relishing how the slick mess between them felt.  
“That’s it, get it nice and wet, kitten,” Roger hissed, looking up at the ceiling.   
Your jaw ached, but it was small tidbits of praise that spurred you on. Continuing to bob your head back and forth to meet Roger’s thrusts, the elastic threads of saliva dangling from your chin only grew in length. More than Roger’s efforts to make you gag, the heat between your thighs grew impossible to ignore. Feeling brave, you reached down between your legs, only for Roger to tug your head away from his cock.  
Holding you by the hair, Roger looked down at you. A mess of sweat and spit flushed crimson and heaving air into your lungs. He leaned over, nose to nose with you, wearing a wicked smirk as his hand covered yours. “Is that little cunt of yours all needy, kitten,” he cooed, wiggling your head. “Yeah?”  
“Yes, daddy.”  
His grip on your hair loosened as his voice softened. “I think you’ve earned it.”  
A delirious smile spread across your face as you lay back, parting your legs to grant him better access to you.  
Roger’s calloused fingers drew torturous, feathery strokes up and down your folds. Even that had you arching your back, gasping desperately. “Thank you, daddy.”  
“Daddy knows how to treat you right, doesn’t he, kitten?” He asked, briefly dipping a finger inside you.  
“Yes, daddy,” you gasped, maintaining eye contact with him. Your hips squirmed underneath his touch. Movement in the periphery of your vision caused you to glance down, setting your sights on Roger’s other hand, pumping steadily up and down his shaft. You wanted that more than his fingers. Just the sight of it, so close, had you licking your lips.   
Of course, Roger noticed. “You’ve been gagging for this all day, haven’t you kitten?”  
You nodded, tugging your lower lip between your teeth as Roger began fucking you with two fingers.   
“Where do you want my cock, kitten. Come on, use your words.”  
“I want it in my cunt, daddy, please.”  
Roger chuckled, removing his fingers from you. A single clear strand still connected his fingers to you, even as he brought them up to your mouth.   
“Here, clean these. Might keep you quiet for a little while,” he remarked. He slipped his cock inside you with little resistance, falling on top of you and settling into a merciless rhythm.  
You continued to suck on his fingers as you writhed against his body. His weight on top of you didn’t allow you much leeway, but the feeling of being pinned under him or that he could do whatever he wanted to you, just made your cunt clench even tighter around him.   
“Such a needy little cunt,” Roger grunted, “aren’t you kitten?”  
You knew better than to ignore him. Through his fingers, you choked a flustered, “yes, daddy.”  
“Moan nice and loud, so the neighbours know what a dirty girl you are,” he continued.   
His thrusts came in sharp, shallow stabs that forced you to punctuate them with desperate cries for release. You were confident the people in the rooms next door would hear. If not that then the noise the bed frame made when Roger fucked you so ferociously.  
“Moan any fucking louder, and I might have to whore you out to them.”  
Those words made you twitch, and your eyes squeeze shut. You began to imagine what it might be like to have Roger share you with the group of elderly men in room 501. Or the honeymooning couple in 505. Then you wondered if you could have them all at once. It wasn’t Roger’s worst idea.  
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I know you’re thinking about it, kitten.”  
But you were his. And you knew he would never allow it. He was much too jealous. You belonged to him. “I just want you, daddy.”  
And you knew how to get to him.   
As Roger reached his peak, his movements slowed too slow, sensual strokes. “Where do you want daddy’s cum, kitten?” he asked, pressing his nose against yours. “Where do you want it?”  
“Come inside me, daddy. I need you to fill me,” you urged.   
“You’re just dying for me to knock you up, aren’t you?”  
He hit the nail on the head.   
You couldn’t even answer before rope after rope of Roger’s seed filled you. And when you couldn’t contain it any longer, it slowly seeped from you as Roger lay on top of you.  
“That’s my good girl,” Roger whispered, finding his way to your mouth. “Daddy’s gonna finish you off now kitten, ok?” he reassured.   
“No,” you protested, clinging on to him. “Can we cuddle for a while, first?”  
Roger nodded, moving beside you. “Of course, kitten.”  
Flinging your arm over Roger’s chest, you pressed yourself close to him, relishing the warmth of his skin, and the way his body moved as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m sorry I was such a brat today.”  
“That’s ok darling,” Roger began, stroking your hair. “I suppose if we’re serious about this, we’re going to have to factor in some alone time.”  
“Exactly.”  
Roger chuckled. “Shouldn’t be too hard if you keep wearing those gorgeous little dresses.”  
“So you did notice?” you cooed, delivering a sharp smack to Roger’s side.   
“Got the desired effect, didn’t it?”


End file.
